Saying Goodbye

After six years, I said goodbye to my first house. It didn’t quite end the way I’d planned. My dream was to fill it with children, with family, and with great memories. And there were some.

My goodbye was short. It was difficult but I prepared well.

My therapist once told me a story. She said that she likes to go to estate sales or garage and sales and purchase plates. She does her own therapy at home when she needs it by taking the plates, bowls, etc. and smashing them. She talked about the release of it and I tucked that idea away. Well, this move was a perfect time to try it out.

Moving from this house, I was leaving behind a lot. I was saying goodbye to some terrible memories and beginning a fresh start elsewhere. I wanted a way to make those goodbyes tangible.

So, I took a plate. The plate alone had significance. It was gifted to me at my bridal shower and was to be used for breakfast in bed. The gifter has a family tradition of bringing breakfast in bed to each family member on their birthday or special day of some kind. The whole family brings the meal to the person and sits on his/her bed. I loved this idea and dreamt of doing it with my own family. But it didn’t happen. The promise to carry on this special tradition fell by the wayside along with many other unfulfilled promises. This plate became a reminder of those.

I sat down on my last night in the house and wrote down the things I was saying goodbye to upon leaving the house the following day. Nothing fancy. Originally, I tried to toss the plate into my fire pit. However, it turned out to be fairly sturdy. So I removed it, geared up, bagged it, and took a hammer to it. No crazy screams or anything like in tv. But still, the experience was cathartic. When I finished, I took the bag of shattered pieces, and tossed it out the front porch to be disposed of with the other trash.

The following day, I climbed into a 26’ truck and closed that chapter.

The new chapter is a beautiful one. It will have a new plate. And this time, it will be used.

Final thoughts:

Healing is a process. There is no “get over it”. If there’s a death in someone’s family, there’s grieving. Somehow affairs, abuse, addictions, and desertion are expected to be kept quiet. And that’s of not help to someone going through it.

 I’ve been blessed by those that have reached out while going through similar experiences. If you’re going through it, please find someone to lean on. This is one of the loneliest roads and no one should go through it alone. I promise that it will get better.